


Save the last dance for me

by mrshopkirk



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Broken Bucky Barnes, Broken Hearts, Broken Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky breaks steve's heart, Comfort/Angst, Declarations Of Love, Denial of Feelings, Domestic Fluff, Dorks in Love, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, Falling In Love, Feels, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Smut, Friendship/Love, Gay Bucky Barnes, Gay Sex, Gay Steve Rogers, Heartbreak, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, I Don't Even Know, Idiots in Love, Kissing, Lots of Touching, Love, Love Confessions, Love/Hate, M/M, Men in love, Mild Smut, My First Smut, Natasha Is a Good Bro, POV Bucky Barnes, POV Original Character, POV Steve Rogers, Romantic Fluff, Steve Needs a Hug, Steve Rogers Feels, Stucky - Freeform, Swearing, True Love, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings, be kind, bucky is an asshole, bucky is lost, even tony is a good bro, i'm sorry about that, it's fluff - sort of smut - angst - smutty stuff - angst -and an ending, men kissing, pepper is cool, sort of gay sex, steve rogers never gives up, stucky nsfw, that's a lot of tags, until he does give up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-05
Updated: 2017-10-05
Packaged: 2019-01-09 08:35:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12272775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrshopkirk/pseuds/mrshopkirk
Summary: Just before Bucky ships out, he and Steve finally admit they are more than just good friends. When they find each other again after decades apart, Steve wants to give their relationship a new chance but Bucky wants to move on and cuts Steve from his life. Bucky has to face the consequences when Steve actually does move on.





	Save the last dance for me

**Author's Note:**

> First posted on Tumblr.  
> Steve and Bucky's song is If I didn't care by The Inkspots (1939).  
> Thank you so much for reading and I'd love to hear from you.

Outside the small apartment Bucky and Steve share, the sun is setting; coloring everything inside a beautiful, warm golden color. Steve would enjoy it and maybe even draw it if it weren’t the last night Bucky will spend here for a long time.

“The war will be over soon. I’ll be back before you know it.” Bucky ruffles Steve’s hair in a futile attempt to rid Steve’s face of that worried look. He’d do anything to see his friend smile. He lives for that smile. The one thing he’s worried about is how Steve will cope when he’s away. Bucky already promised to send him money, which, of course, Steve had stubbornly refused.

“I’ll be a pain in your ass again before you can even blink.” Stop thinking about Steve’s ass, Bucky thinks, but he grins at the thought of that tiny boney ass anyway. It’s been on his mind too much for too long already and at the most inappropriate times. Bucky thinks back to when Steve had dropped his spoon and bent over to pick it up. An inappropriate moan had escaped Bucky at the mere sight of his pants outlining what must be the fairest ass in all of Brooklyn. Steve’s head had snapped up, glaring at Bucky. He had covered himself saying that the food was the most delicious he had eaten in a long time and Steve had beamed at the compliment even though he’s truly the worst cook ever. Bucky doesn’t remember what made him readjust his pants then, the sight of Steve’s ass or that radiant smile. It doesn’t matter really. Everything Steve does has an effect on Bucky.

Steve looks at him with a sad smile on his face. It’s the best he can manage for Bucky and Bucky gladly accepts anything Steve throws his way, literally and figuratively. He has dodged plates Steve threw at him when he spent all his money on drinks for the ladies at the dance hall or the outbursts of profanities when he offended him or even defended him for all that matters. Like that time when Steve thought he could handle that giant from down the street himself despite having a broken nose already. He had been so mad that Bucky found it endearing that he smiled, which resulted in Bucky being pushed into a corner of their apartment by a fuming Steve. Bucky was aroused by the mere proximity of Steve, the heat he radiated and the fierceness in his eyes. He had clawed at the wall behind him to stop him from grabbing Steve’s face and kiss him into oblivion.

They've known each other forever and tiptoed around the subject for a long time now. Bucky knows that if he doesn't do something now he might never get the chance again. Tentatively brushing their knees together while reading on the couch and standing too close for just friends to be appropriate when cooking dinner, those times are over. Everything is replaced by the war now. That’s all that waits for Bucky starting tomorrow. While Bucky looks over at where Steve is sitting on the living room floor, he thinks back at how they used cold winter nights as an excuse to crawl under the covers together, entangling their limbs in the most ridiculous ways so they could press every inch of their bodies together and pretend nothing happened in the morning. All that lies ahead is fear, cold nights on cots and an ocean separating him from Steve’s comforting presence.

Steve’s been fidgeting with Bucky’s duffel bag all evening making sure Bucky has everything he needs before shipping out. Bucky bets he would be able to hide him in the duffel bag and take him with him. He doesn’t need clothes when he has Steve anyway. His body runs hot as the sun itself when Steve is near. He’s surprised he hasn’t melted or simply combusted yet every time he sits next to him when they are cramped on their little ratty old couch.

Steve had started to speak several times now but just swallows back the words. What was supposed to be a nice dinner feels like the last supper of a dead man. Washing the dishes suffers an uncomfortable silence. Nothing happens. The air in their tiny apartment weighs down heavily, full of unspoken words.

“Goodnight Buck. Big day tomorrow,” Steve softly says eventually. He casts down his eyes and squeezes them shut before retreating to his bedroom with a lump in his throat and a mind bursting with feelings left unsaid.

“Wait…”

Turning around Steve sees Bucky walking towards him with a soft smile on his face, rubbing his hands on his pants. The evening sun reflects on his skin coloring it dark golden and his hair a dark chocolate brown. Bucky runs his hand through his hair while letting out a nervous breath. God, can this man be anymore beautiful? Steve thinks. With each tentative step Bucky takes and the nervous chuckle that makes it past Bucky’s sinful lips, Steve secretly revels in Bucky’s mere presence. His heart of pure gold, his flawless body and every little thing that makes up Bucky Barnes makes Steve’s heart race in his chest and butterflies madly flutter in his stomach.

Steve is hyper-aware of every step Bucky takes and it sets every nerve on fire. His breath picks up and makes him lightheaded though he truly only wants to inhale every breath Bucky exhales. God, give me strength. Whether it’s strength to resist his best friend or strength to finally tell him he’s the one he wants, Steve isn’t really sure.

As for Bucky, there is nothing but love to be found in his eyes. He thought he'd be more nervous. Looking down at his Stevie, an exciting energy courses through his body and goose bumps erupt on his skin. Bucky really wants to brush Steve’s cheek but decides against it. Instead he simply holds out his hand.

“Come on.”

There’s no saying no to that trademark Barnes grin on Bucky’s face even if Steve wanted to. So Steve takes his hand and is glad his knees don’t buckle under him as he follows him to the middle of the small room. He feels cold when Bucky lets go of his hand and walks over to the old record player they got from the widow next door.

Bucky puts on the one record they own with their favorite song. When the music starts playing he draws a deep breath and turns around, a gutsy look on his face, and comes to stand right across Steve. He smiles down at him and in silence takes his bony hands in his. They feel cold in his warm big hands. They always do. Though Bucky despises winter and the coldness it brings, the best thing is warming Steve’s hands. He smiles at the memory and intertwines their fingers like it's something they have done countless times before. It feels good; it feels right, like they belong there. Bucky feels on top of the world because he finally did something right in his life. He grabbed the bull by its horns and made an, albeit, small move on Steve before it’s too late. It was risky because no matter how small Steve the bull is, he’s a feisty one but by the looks of it, Steve wants to be here just as much as he does. Though they’re both very wary of the uncharted territory they’re venturing into.

There’s something to a last night, the last night before shipping out, the last night of talks and laughs, the last nights of shyly glancing in each other’s direction, the last night for a chance at something more, something unique.

“Take off your shoes,” Bucky says, tipping off his own shoes.

While they’re swaying to the gentle tones of the song they both love so much, their socked feet don’t give the men’s dance away to the neighbors. Trouble on their last night is the last thing they need.

 

_If I didn’t care more than words can say_

_If I didn’t care, would I feel this way?_

_If this isn’t love than why do I thrill?_

_And what makes my head go ‘round and ‘round_

_While my heart stands still?_

 

Bucky looks down at their hands, fingers linked. Steve’s fingers feel even smaller now; his skin looks paler than his own. He turns Steve’s hand in his own, grasping it tenderly and bringing it up to his chest while his other hand slowly makes its way around Steve’s tiny waist and rests on his lower back. It’s only when Steve doesn’t protest Bucky dares to open his eyes, which he didn’t even know he closed. Blue eyes are looking up at him, lips curled in a smile and cheeks tinted the most delightful shade of pink Bucky has ever seen. Steve is truly the most beautiful thing Bucky has ever laid his eyes on in his life and he is sure to commit it to memory. This right here, this is the last thing he wants to see flashing before his eyes if he dies on some godforsaken battlefield.

Steve takes a step closer to Bucky, gently pressing his body up against his, shaking Bucky from his dreams. He pulls him in a little tighter and rests his head on his chest, inhaling Bucky’s scent made of the salt from his job at the docks, the smoke of his cigarettes and some cheap cologne. The scent isn’t entirely unfamiliar but he allows himself basks in it right now and he’s adamant to make the most of this moment. A fear that this might just be a whim of Bucky creeps up on him but the thought leaves his mind as fast as it came when Bucky pulls him closer and sighs when Steve returns the embrace.

As they quietly sway from side to side, Steve, for once, feels like he’s the calm one, his heartbeat steadier than his friend’s rapidly pounding heart and his palms less sweaty than Bucky’s. It makes him chuckle.

“What are you laughing about, Steve?”

“Your palms are sweaty.”

“Can’t blame a guy for being nervous,” he chuckles.

Steve buries his head even further in Bucky’s chest, listens to the melody of the song and the fast rhythm of Bucky’s heartbeat. He isn’t surprised when he steps on Bucky’s toes after a while. He can’t dance for shit, not even shuffle, and he is even more embarrassed when Bucky stops their dance all together.

“Sorry,” he mutters against Bucky’s chest, cursing himself silently.

Bucky slowly drops his hand so both of them rest on Steve’s waist. He’s trembling a little because in this moment he realizes just how much he has wanted this. His thumbs rub small circles on Steve’s bony hips through the bunched up fabric of his pants. They are at least two sizes too big for that little body that is nothing but perfect to Bucky. His forehead is resting on top of Steve’s hair and he’s drawing deep breaths before spreading his fingers so widely that he covers at least the top half of that cute wiggly ass. His grasp tightens when he feels Steve draw in a sharp breath but releasing it immediately and relaxes in his arms.

“Steve?” he murmurs in his hair.

“Yeah, Bucky?”

“Can I,” he swallows loudly, “can I kiss you? Would that be okay?” Bucky feels Steve’s head tilting up so he can look at his face.

“I can’t…”

“It’s okay,” Bucky hurriedly says. “I understand. I shouldn’t have asked.” He shuffles awkwardly with embarrassment because what the hell was he thinking anyway asking that. The tops of Steve’s fingers dig ever so gently into his pecs, making him flex them instinctively.

“That’s not what I meant, Buck. It’s just-“

God, can he can blush more beautifully, Bucky thinks.

“I don’t think I’m, well, good at it and I don’t want to be a disappointment,” he whispers with a sad look on his face, casting his eyes down to the floor.

Bucky just smiles, lifts Steve’s chin with his finger and closes the gab between their lips. The kiss is sweet and gentle, making their bodies flush with warmth. It takes Bucky by surprise when Steve pushes their lips together harder, grabbing a handful of his shirt to keep him close but there isn’t a cell in his body that doesn’t want this. Grabbing Steve by the waist and his neck, he kisses him back with equal passion, maybe even more. My god, what does this man do to me? Their kisses are hard and soft, sloppy and passionate, filled with want and need, leaving Bucky breathless and by the looks of it leave Steve breathless too. He knows he has a dopey smile on his face. Love will do that to you, right? Steve is shaking and panting in his arms and Bucky can’t deny feeling proud of the effect his kiss has on Steve until it hits him.

“Steve! Oh fuck! Come buddy, breathe for me!” Bucky picks Steve up and carries him to their little couch. Bucky looks at Steve’s pale, sweaty face in his arms, his lips turning a light shade of blue. All he hears is Steve’s rapid wheezy breathing and the rush of his own blood in his ears. He helps Steve to sit upright. “Come on, Stevie, take long, deep breaths with me.” He props up Steve against his chest, holding on to his hands, noticing his fingernails are starting to turn blue as well. A tear runs down Bucky’s cheek. “Breathe with me, Stevie, please, breathe with me.”


End file.
